Jack of Hearts by Ricardo Bare

Author:Ricardo Bare
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.
Published: 2015-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

JACK’S GOING FISHING. A long cane pole swishes at his side. A bucket hangs from his other hand, containing a clump of string and a sack full of crickets he caught last night. It’s not far from the house to the creek, just a short walk down the footpath, over shadows sliding beneath swaying branches.

His sister is there. She’s not supposed to be—not without Jack or their parents—but she’s not alone. Three boys circle her. Jack doesn’t know them. He’s ten, but they’re older and bigger, with cruel smiles while they laugh and pinch and shove. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes angry and terrified. One of them yanks on her skirt; she clutches at it to keep it from slipping down.

Jack’s heart hammers in his chest. He sets the bucket on the ground and tears down the path. He doesn’t yell, so they won’t hear him coming. The first boy notices Jack’s feet padding in the dirt just as the cane pole whips across his face. The bully screams and staggers back, slipping on the bank and into the creek.

The cane hisses again. A second boy shrieks at the welt on his forearm, but the pole snaps in two. The third bully grabs Jack’s hair from behind and wrenches his head so hard he falls onto his back. Then the kicking starts, against his ribs, legs, head. Vicious pummels. He curls up to shield his face and stomach. There’s splashing from the creek. The first boy slogs back out of the water, furious.

“I’m gonna kill you!” he screams when he touches his face and sees the red smear on his hand. He’s crashes onto Jack, heavy and sopping wet, pounding with his fists.

Jack’s head rings, his nose gushes.

“Leave him alone!” his sister cries.

The bigger boy halts, panting. Finally. He staggers back to his feet, spits on Jack.

“We should give you a beating too.”

Jack can feel one eye swelling shut. It’s tight and puffy. He grits his teeth and creaks back up to his feet, fists balled. Something feels broken somewhere, but he pushes the pain down.

The wet bully with the split cheek looks at the damage he’s done and sneers. “That’s what you get.”

Jack socks the boy in the mouth as hard and fast as he can. He’s always been fast. The wet smack echoes over the creek, loud as a trout whip-cracking the creek water with its tail. His hand explodes with pain. The skin on his knuckles is torn on teeth, wrist jammed from the impact, but it’s worth it to see the bully fall back into the water again like a plank.

The other two are stunned at first. Then they’re on Jack, driving him to the ground. They’re merciless, punching, tearing, and cursing. His sister jumps on one, gouging her fingers into his eyes, but the boy is too big. An elbow bangs against her head. She reels.

One of them looks down at Jack, surprised, and stops—he puts a hand on his friend. “Okay—that’s enough.”

Jack is a ruined ball of a boy, bleeding, smeared with dust and mud.

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